Clockwork Lullaby
by conversingCorpses
Summary: "Where are the stars for the sky? The clockwork will sing you a lullaby. And someday I'll teach you to run; And someday you'll teach me to fly..."


****OKAY! First story in this fandom. ^^ Heh heh, pretty excited.

I actually wrote this after being woken up because of this fucking humongous storm... at four in the morning.

Just don't murder me if it sucks or something, okay?

Oh, and it's set, like, after the end of the game and stuff. They're both 17...

ENJOY. :3

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**Clockwork Lullaby**

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Silence rings out in the darkness of the apartment. No wind blows, no couples snore, no televisions buzz in the background. All is silent...

**CRASH!**

A pathetic whimper is heard, a rustle of blankets, the shifting of weight in a creaky old bed.

A flash of light, a pause, another crash.

The light goes out. A strangled yelp emanates from the large mass of blankets centered on a small bed in the corner of the room. A head of black hair and candy corn horns pokes out, only to be met with another clap of thunder. An inexplicable fear is present in the red and yellow eyes, now brimming with shining red tears.

Karkat did not like this situation at all.

Lightning flashes, illuminating the room. A small bookshelf filled with crappy movies, a small LED television, a bed, a closet door, and an antique-looking bedside table covered in picture frames.

A sunny day. A car door. A pair of sunglasses and a hoodie. The day John practically dragged Karkat home after the game was still fresh in his mind, despite being a sweep and a half ago. A lot of screaming was involved, along with a bit of clawing and gnawing of the arms like a trapped coyote. Karkat still had the scars to prove his stupidity for that.

A cloudy day. A piece of cake. A ton of icing. A laugh. An unamused face. John thought it had been funny to hit Karkat in the face with a pie on April Fool's Day half a sweep ago, but wasn't exactly happy to receive the same treatment.

A rainy day. A green umbrella. Two people. Two species. One wet, entangled mass. Taken by Jade one day, it was his favorite picture. He and John had been caught in the rain, and John, refusing to let him get sick, forced Karkat to share an umbrella with him. They somehow got splashed by a passing semi, and ended up clinging to each other for warmth.

Lightning reflects in the frames, the thunder following causing them to rattle. He whimpers, wrapping one of the blankets over his nubby little horns. The largest crash yet draws a loud yelp from his throat, coaxing shivers to wrack his thin frame.

Crash after crash, flash after flash.

Earth storms were horrible.

Where was John in all of this? At work. He had to pay rent, buy food, and all that good stuff. It made Karkat feel terrible, though. The poor boy was only barely eight sweeps, and he was already working three jobs, however menial they may be.

Another flash. Another crash. Two crashes. Three. Getting louder.

Flash by flash goes his sanity. Each crash takes a bit more energy. He feels drained.

He wants John.

He wants to be held like a little one sweep old and cling to their shirt like his life depends on it, to have someone sing meaningless lullabies to him as he shakes, to have someone there.

He is lonely.

A door opens. A candle flickers to life. A pair of bare feet shuffle through the halls. A pair of blue eyes glance at an digital watch.

**5:13 am.**

Was he even still awake?

The door quietly swings open, the eyes going straight to the cluster of blankets in the bed. A slight downward twist to a pair of lips, and there is a dip in the bed.

Karkat looks up, red meeting with blue. Grey hands shoot out from the mass of blankets and wrap themselves around John's waist, a head of black hair and candy corn horns exiting its shelter again to bury itself in a soft blue shirt. A warm hand strokes his hair, another wrapping under his arms and pulling him into a lap.

Karkat buries his head in John's shoulder, whimpering again as another round of thunder and lightning shakes the small apartment. A soothing hand is rubbed against his back, and his shaking slows a bit.

There is a pause before the singing starts.

_"Where are the stars for the sky?_  
_The clockwork will sing you a lullaby._  
_And someday I'll teach you to run;_  
_And someday you'll teach me to fly..."_

Red eyes close, blue eyes watch in fascination as his body relaxes and small snores escape his throat.

A soft kiss is placed on a grey forehead, and the storm dies down.

Pale arms lay a grey mass back in its pile of blankets. A single blanket is stolen, and a pair of bare feet shuffle towards the door. A small smile is seen, a shock of black hair, a pair of wire-frame glasses, a horrible overbite. A flush of red across pale cheeks.

_"Goodnight Karkat."_


End file.
